


Snow big deal

by clottedcreamfudge



Series: Tooth-rotting Malec nonsense [12]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Has No Chill, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, Gay Disaster Alec Lightwood, Kissing, M/M, Magnus Bane is a Little Shit, Magnus Does Yoga, Magnus is allergic to shirts, Neighbors, Pining, Snow, Snowball Fight, The thirst is real, Thirsty Alec Lightwood, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, What does Magnus do?, Writer Alec Lightwood, hell if i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:00:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29807379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clottedcreamfudge/pseuds/clottedcreamfudge
Summary: His neighbour's name is Magnus, and he likes to mow his front lawn shirtless, all well-defined muscle and miles of golden skin on show like that’sokay. There are quite a few older ladies on this street who are probably going to run down their pacemakers several years early because of him; it’s just not community minded.Magnus also likes to do yoga in his backyard, and he wears even less when he’s doing that - nothing but these little lycra shorts that Alec’s pretty sure are illegal in several states. All of them, maybe. If they’re not, they fuckingshould be.➼Alec is a gay disaster whose thirst for his hot neighbour is getting a little out of hand.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Tooth-rotting Malec nonsense [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170269
Comments: 44
Kudos: 269





	Snow big deal

Alec despises his new neighbour. He’s not even that _new_ , really; the guy moved in this summer, and Alec’s life has been hell ever since. He now spends his mornings desperately scrolling through house listings on his phone, scowling over his Bran Flakes and wondering how hard it would be to just… get the new guy to leave. He could probably do it. Even people who like Alec tend to describe him as ‘difficult,’ at best and ‘kind of psychotic-looking from some angles,’ at worst.

It’s not that the new guy has done anything particularly nefarious, and Alec is admittedly quite impressed with his dedication to recycling, but there’s just something about him that he can’t deal with.

The ‘something’ in question being that he’s really fucking hot, and it’s driving Alec slowly insane.

His name is Magnus, and he likes to mow his front lawn shirtless, all well-defined muscle and miles of golden skin on show like that’s _okay_. There are quite a few older ladies on this street who are probably going to run down their pacemakers several years early because of him; it’s just not community minded.

Magnus also likes to do yoga in his backyard, and he wears even _less_ when he’s doing that - nothing but these little lycra shorts that Alec’s pretty sure are illegal in several states. All of them, maybe. If they’re not, they fucking _should be._ And yeah, maybe Alec shouldn’t be looking into his neighbour’s backyard, but it’s not his fault he’s tall, or that his bedroom window gives him a really stellar view of Magnus’s downward facing dog. He likes to have his morning coffee in front of this particular window, and if that’s when Magnus likes to do said yoga… well. Alec was here first. He’s not going to back down just because some guy moved in next door and decided to start being sexy and _flexible_ in full view of his favourite window.

Maybe all of this would be more manageable if Alec had said more than a few words to him in the months since Magnus moved in - but he hasn’t. The problem is that he has literally never been able to talk to attractive men, and Magnus is the most attractive man he’s ever met in his life. Nobody else even comes _close._

When Magnus had first arrived in the neighbourhood, he’d come round to introduce himself, and of course Alec had been so instantly attracted to him that he’d flown right past ‘stuttering mess’ and straight into ‘glaring bitch face.’

“Do I remind you of someone you intensely dislike?” Magnus had asked curiously, and Alec had flushed a little, realising he’d barely said more than ‘hi’ and ‘yeah, welcome’ since the guy had turned up on his doorstep.

“This is just my face,” he’d explained, and Magnus had nodded solemnly.

“And this is mine,” he’d said, like Alec hadn’t been staring at his face for an unreasonably long time already, memorising every inch of it. “It’s always nice when neighbours can get their faces properly acquainted with one another from the very beginning, don’t you think?” Alec’s not sure what he’d choked on - his own saliva, probably - but it had been sufficiently mortifying.

Since then, they’ve crossed paths a few times, and every single instance has left Alec looking like an unapproachable idiot; eventually Magnus is going to stop saying ‘hello’ to him at all, and then Alec can just get on with his life and put this behind him. Probably.

➼

It’s winter when things finally come to a head, snow coming down with wild abandon and covering their street in several inches of the stuff; Alec really hates snow. He works from home and, because he’s a fucking _stalker_ apparently, he knows Magnus does too. There is no need, therefore, for him to shovel both of their driveways, but he’s kind of sick of looking at snow by day two and at this point he’ll do anything to avoid his looming book deadline. Lydia is going to kill him, but at least he’ll have a clear driveway.

He wraps up a little - not much, because he’s a _native_ , okay, and he can deal with some sub-zero temperatures without putting on a stupid hat - and grabs the snow shovel out of the garage before heading outside. The cold hits him like a slap to the face and he feels himself smiling slightly; snow might be a total bitch to navigate, but you can’t beat the ferocity of a New York winter.

It takes him at least half an hour to shovel his driveway and then, because he’s magnanimous (and also procrastinating like hell because his final chapter is giving him trouble), he moves over to Magnus’s driveway.

If it gets him out of writing a passionate love confession between two characters that look _suspiciously_ like him and his hot neighbour, he’ll shovel every driveway on the goddamn street. He’s written himself into a corner, and he’s only now realised just how fucked he is. He kind of hopes the winter takes him before Lydia calls for an update.

“Not that I’m complaining about the view, but shouldn’t you at least be wearing a scarf?” Magnus’s voice pulls Alec out of his snow-shovelling introspection and he turns sharply to where the man in question is standing in his doorway. He’s leaning his hip against the doorframe and looking annoyingly lithe and attractive even wrapped up against the cold; the tip of his nose is already turning red, and he can’t have been out here for more than a minute. How he’s managing to look gorgeous and stylish in a fur-lined parka and snow boots is beyond Alec, but Magnus is certainly doing it.

“You’re probably letting the cold in,” Alec comments, then winces, looking away from Magnus when he realises how _brittle_ his voice sounds. It’s like this every time; if Magnus ever sees him talking to his siblings, he’s going to think Alec’s been abducted by aliens or replaced by a changeling.

The soft sound of Magnus’s door clicking shut isn’t surprising; Alec doesn’t really want to stay out here with himself either, but unfortunately, _he_ doesn’t have a choice.

What _is_ surprising, however, is the snowball that hits him in the side of the head a few seconds later.

“What the-” Magnus’s peal of delighted laughter is all the answer Alec needs, and as he turns to face his attacker, shovel abandoned unceremoniously on the driveway, he catches another snowball to the chest. “Are you _twelve?”_ Alec asks, but he’s _smiling_ , and Magnus looks so shocked when he catches Alec’s expression that he almost feels bad about it. Just how much of a curmudgeon has been the last few months that Magnus doesn’t think he’s capable of _smiling?_

“Twelve with several years’ experience,” Magnus says eventually, voice light, a smile starting to stretch across his own face. “I’m incredibly good at it by now.”

“I should probably warn you,” Alec says calmly, dropping down to scoop up a handful of snow in one gloved hand, “I’m a state champion archer.” The snowball he sends Magnus’s way hits its target exactly as expected, exploding across the front of his parka with such force that Magnus takes one staggering step backwards before he finds his balance. Alec has another snowball in his hands before Magnus has even regained his footing, tossing it casually between his palms. He raises an eyebrow and watches the smile on Magnus’s face bloom back into life, trying to ignore the swooping sensation in his stomach at the sight of it.

“Have you been secretly fun this _entire time?”_ Magnus asks accusingly, and Alec should probably feel offended, but it’s not like Magnus doesn’t have a right to be surprised. Alec has shown absolutely no outward signs of having a personality beyond _‘being annoyed’_ in front of his neighbour before now - he’s fully aware of that fact. 

“I told you,” Alec says, eyebrows raised, “this is literally just my face.” The next snowball he throws gets Magnus on the shoulder, and it’s only his tightly wound scarf that stops snow from getting inside his clothes.

“So it is to be war,” Magnus says gravely, but he’s smiling. Alec grins helplessly back. He’s finding it difficult to stop now he’s started. 

It turns out having a snowball fight with your hot neighbour is much easier than trying to make conversation with him. 

It quickly becomes apparent that, while Alec may have the better aim, Magnus is quicker to form snowballs, so they end up pretty evenly matched. Magnus gets a couple of good shots in on Alec’s shoulder, but seems frustrated every time Alec manages to duck out of the path of those aimed for his face; you don’t grow up with multiple aggressively competitive siblings without learning how to dodge suspect objects being slung at your head.

Alec knows _exactly_ what’s under that parka, so while he’s surprised to get tackled a minute after landing a _particularly_ good shot on Magnus’s kneecap, he’s less shocked by how easily he goes down into a nearby snowdrift. The air leaves him as he lands, and while he isn’t completely winded by the fall, the grin on Magnus’s face, cheeks rosy with the cold above his scarf, almost does the job for him.

The chill starts to seep through Alec’s coat almost immediately, snow sliding down the neck of it and melting when it hits his skin, but he barely feels it.

“I do believe this means I win,” Magnus says conversationally, like this had been a _competition_ , and not just Alec’s complete inability to act like a normal and rational human being around attractive people.

“Um,” Alec says, because he’s just realised that he has Magnus on top of him, and even through the multiple layers of clothing between them, that just feels like _a big deal_. He stares dumbly up at Magnus, completely unsure of what to do or say now; he has no previous experience on the subject of how to react when your crush - to whom you have been objectively _awful_ for several months - tackles you to the ground and plasters himself to your front. Magnus is smirking, victorious and beautiful, but after a few moments of Alec staring at him, his face changes; he looks thoughtful. This is probably a bad thing.

“Ah,” Magnus says softly, realisation colouring the single syllable in a way that has Alec immediately scrambling away from him, face heating up in a heartbeat.

“This doesn’t need to be a big deal,” Alec says quickly, flushed from a combination of the cold, exertion, and deep embarrassment.

“I don’t know,” Magnus says slowly, “I think I’d quite like to make a big deal out of it.”

“I can’t talk to beautiful people,” Alec says, mouth moving of its own accord without any input from his brain. He kind of wishes this was a busy street so he could crawl out into the middle of the road and wait for a car to hit him.

“You think I’m beautiful?” Magnus asks, looking pleased and _surprised_ , like he doesn’t know he’s the most gorgeous person on the planet. Alec doesn’t know what Magnus does for a living - only knows he does it from home - but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was modelling. Or high-quality porn. His face heats up at the thought and suddenly he wishes it was a few degrees _colder_ out here.

“False modesty isn’t a good look on you, Magnus,” he says tersely, even though that’s kind of a lie; everything is a good look on him. It’s excruciating. Magnus looks at him for a moment, still kneeling a couple of feet away in the snow, then crawls very deliberately over to where Alec’s lying half in, half out of a self-made snowdrift, propped up on his elbows. Alec’s heart is in his mouth as Magnus comes to a stop hovering over him, gloved hands sinking slightly into the snow on either side of Alec’s head.

“I’m not sure you mean that, Alexander,” Magnus says softly, and Alec has never really liked his full name but fuck if it doesn’t sound pretty good coming from Magnus’s mouth.

“You’re gonna get cold,” he says nonsensically, like that’s an adequate response to a man you’ve been lusting over for months crawling through the snow to _lie on top of you_. His brain is falling back on what it knows, which is primarily terse responses and sarcasm.

“You’ll just have to warm me up,” Magnus says brightly, before leaning down to kiss him full on the mouth.

Alec’s been kissed before - only a few times, but it’s definitely _happened_. He’s kissed people back, in a manner of speaking, though he’d never been particularly into it and it had never gone anywhere; his mind had gone into overdrive every time, like he needed to respond in precisely the right way or people would figure out he was new to it and didn’t really know what he was doing. 

This feels like something else entirely. He can’t think at all, focused on nothing except the heat of Magnus’s mouth against his, on getting more of it as soon as possible. He gets a hand in Magnus’s scarf and pulls him closer, cataloguing the shift of muscle and the pleased hum he feels vibrating through all the places they’re touching - because he’s going to be _thinking_ about this later, and he wants to remember _everything_.

Magnus’s mouth, so _warm_ for all that his face is freezing, opens invitingly under a tentative swipe of Alec’s tongue and he presses the advantage; it’s all so heady and new, and he feels stripped bare and bright at the intensity of it.

Magnus pulls away eventually, though there’s reluctance in every minute shift of his body as he goes, and Alec has to bite back a whimper at the loss of warmth.

“Well,” Magnus says, voice rough and tempting; he’s still hovering over Alec, looking amused and slightly dazed. “This certainly puts your obsession with my recycling habits in a different light.”

“I’m not obsessed,” Alec argues, mouth curving into a stupid smile without his permission. “I just appreciate your dedication to correct recycling practices.” Magnus smiles back at him, face open and beautiful, and Alec leans up to kiss him again, because he thinks that might be allowed.

“Do you want to come in for a drink?” Magnus asks breathlessly, pulling back after a minute to eye Alec with something hungry and very much welcome; Alec feels that look down to his bones, spreading beneath his skin and stirring something hot and untameable at the base of his spine.

“It’s 2.30 in the afternoon,” he says weakly, but it isn’t a no.

“Maybe I meant cocoa,” Magnus says with a little shrug that has his half-unwound scarf brushing against the front of Alec’s coat.

“Did you?”

“No,” he admits, and Alec smiles.

“Okay. Fine. Let’s have a drink.” Magnus smiles back down at him.

“That’s a good answer, Alexander,” he says, getting to his feet and offering his hand. Alec takes it and Magnus pulls him up with an ease that has the feeling in his stomach coiling tighter. Alec’s not surprised when Magnus keeps hold of him, pulling him towards the house and smiling back at him in a way that has Alec’s heart doing something complicated and borderline painful in his chest.

Magnus stops him at the door and leans up for another kiss, hot and slow, and Alec is very nearly knocked back on his ass by it. It feels like a promise.

Or a _suggestion._

“That’s for shovelling my driveway like the knight in shining armour you apparently are,” Magnus says with a slow smile when he lets go of Alec to fumble at the door handle. “It’s the first half of my thank you.”

“There’s a second half?” Alec says, a little dumbly. Magnus gets the door open and turns to raise an eyebrow at him. 

“I’m nothing if not thorough.” Alec swallows, throat just slightly drier than it had been a moment before.

“Right,” he nods, following Magnus into the house. “Good to know.”

Alec fucking loves snow.

**Author's Note:**

> Playing in the snow! It is done. Thirsty Alec brought to you by me projecting my thirst onto him - also, I was encouraged by Aria_Lerendeair, so I guess she can share some of the blame too. Thirsty Alec is, however, completely canon, and I would like to direct you to everything he has ever done in the series as evidence.
> 
> Not sorry about that pun at all.


End file.
